


Echoing into the rain

by SenZen_Travers



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Angst, Brothers, Character Study, Dysfunctional Family, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:55:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23597218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SenZen_Travers/pseuds/SenZen_Travers
Summary: «  So here it is; a family reunion. Dark skies, falling rain, spilled blood on demonic stones.Vergil feels nothing.  »A short character study set during the twins' fight at the top of the Temen-ni-Gru.
Relationships: Dante & Vergil (Devil May Cry)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27





	Echoing into the rain

So here it is; a family reunion. Dark skies, falling rain, spilled blood on demonic stones.

Vergil feels nothing.

Dante hasn’t changed. Years have passed since That Day but he’s still every inch the child that he was, lazy and careless, impulsive and angry when Vergil doesn’t react to his histrionics. He hasn’t learned anything. He hasn’t grown. His age and the gaudy clothes he favors are a disguise – a poor one.

His human-soft weakness is the only truth, the one Vergil will bleed out of him.

They fight, sparks of metallic light that reverberate in each drop of rain like steel fireworks. Their swords sing and screech and echo together, rage against rage, will against will. Vergil’s is stronger, though, his skills sharper, his victory inevitable – running Dante through in one single, sharp strike.

He sees Dante bleed, pain on a face similar to his own. He sees his brother struggle to stand upright, shaking when Vergil furthers the wound.

This is hate, Vergil thinks. This is anger – that tightness in his chest, bitter with frustration; that hole in his gut, that prickling in his nape.

This is –

Nothing.

Vergil fixes his hair, pushes back his skin-deep resemblance with a shadow of the past. His brother’s blood pools around them, slowly chased away by the rain – diluted streaks of red crawling on demonic stone.

Food for the Temen-ni-Gru.

(When he was a child, alone and struggling, Vergil used to pretend that the reflection he saw in the rain puddles was Dante.)

Vergil steps away from the past, mirrored by his reflection – a blurry mirror image, streaked with crimson against black skies.

The past rises after him.

**Author's Note:**

> I realized I never posted this, so... Here you have it! I wrote it for the DV shipping week back in... a long time ago. I failed in every respect, both timing-wise and shipping-wise, but I had fun and I hope you found some enjoyment in it <3 Have a lovely day!


End file.
